Aftermath
by Blame The Editor
Summary: A one-shot based upon the amazing song 'Aftermath' by the talented artists of Caravan Palace. Only rated for mentions of death and murder. Warnings at the beginning of the chapter.


**NOT SUITABLE FOR ALL AGES**

 **WARNINGS**

 _ _Mentions of death  
Mentions of murder  
Implied death scene  
Slight gore__

 ** **DISCLAIMER****  
 _ _This is based upon the video game franchise__ Five Nights At Freddy's _ _, all rights for the characters and the world they interact inside belong solely to Scott Cawthon. We own nothing but the writing.  
This is based upon the song __Aftermath _ _, all the rights of the lyrics inspiring the writing are owned by Caravan Palace. We own nothing but the writing.  
Please give credit to those who deserve it. Thank you.__

* * *

"Wait!"

James chases after the form that had seemed to drift over the ground. If he hadn't seen her passing by the office window...

"Ma'am!"

Why was his heart beating quickly? Why did he feel like something terrible was about to happen?

"...ma'am?"

The horror guard stop inside the room he saw a white dress disappear inside. One of the few rooms that didn't have any access to the vents. And directly on the other side of where he last saw Springtrap before sprinting after the drifting figure.

He ran as fast as he could. It had always been fast enough. Especially against the only animatronic he watches over.

...was he too late?

 _ _One year.__

What?

James looks around the empty room. One that should only have a Foxy lamp seemingly lunging out of the wall. Not only that, but it should be larger, with two different openings to get into what would seemingly be a party room.

"Hello? Is someone here?" the guard calls out, walking inside when it becomes clear even with the few seconds for him to finally enter, he would've at least seen their flowing skirt disappear from sight out the second 'hallway'.

Was Springtrap making him hallucinate? But, even if the animatronic was, he could only make phantom versions of others. And only once had he attempted to make one of James himself, but it disappeared barely a second later. And the figure had a white dress, not broken down or withered away.

 _ _Save them.__

But save who? Who was speaking? How can he help?

No one answers though, James left to glance at the spot the Foxy lamp should be. At the other end of the room that seemed to be fading away as the darkness grew closer and closer. It wasn't really growing smaller. His eyes were just having trouble being able to catch even a sliver of light inside the large space, his vision shortened.

"Ma'am?" he calls. One last look at the empty hall and he finally turns back to search for the lost-

"Corpse! Corpse this isn't funny!"

James glares at what seems to be a door blocking his exit. He doesn't know how the animatronic got it there without alerting him by making any noise, but Springtrap had learned a few tips of pulling pranks with Eggs.

"Spring, come on! Someone's lost in here, and-!"

" _ _Send help.__ "

The horror guard hesitates, a hand raised to knock on the steel door in front of him.

The voice sounded so close, like she was...right behind him.

James whirls around, expressionless as he finally faces the figure in a white dress. It was clear she was beautiful, cascading locks of brown hair, a dress fit for a bride to wear on their wedding day. She stood taller than him and with softer features. She looked like perfection. To get lost in her crystal blue eyes seemed to be an honor.

But, she didn't stay that way.

Before his eyes the girl suddenly began to decay. Black stripes coiled around her arms, string appearing around her wrists, ankles, throat, and even as he simply limp in their positions, it was clear she could be controlled at any second. Like a puppet.

That's when her eyes turned dead with tears streaming down the once beautiful face. A face that seemed like porcelain almost, cracked and missing pieces to reveal a black abyss beneath. The dress no longer glowed a warm light, but anger rolled off her in waves. Anger, as well as longing, sadness.

"I knew you wouldn't be afraid Mr. Stiller," she murmurs. A genuine smile appears, leaving James to lean closer, wanting to know __why__ he was given such a wonderful smile after what he saw.

What happened to her? Is she okay? She said to send for help, to save them, but does that mean there's more than her?

"Always the one to question." A glance away then looking back up at the man. "But always with the best intentions."

"Ma'am-"

"Mary, Mr. Stiller. Call me Mary."

"It's only fair you call me James, then," the man continues, smiling as the woman laughs.

But as he asks the question haunting him, of how he can help her and 'them', there's an echoing sound of a door slamming shut. Neither jump, but at James prepares to run, her eyes burn with anger. One that can never be satisfied.

" _ _Please.__ "

The air turns cold and five children appear before him. Each about eight years old, all Caleb's age. All with tears like the little boy. All silently pleading for protection like him.

"Fritz?"

The redhead only stares up at him, no sort of recognition toward the horror guard. And it stays that way as all five seem to...glitch. And each time they reveal red painted over them. Red that had originated from various wounds caused from a knife, either the slice of their neck, even their chest torn to shreds.

It looked like something Vincent would have done to the original five he murdered so many years ago.

"Was I too late?"

The cold seeping into his bones suddenly vanishes. Mary then stares at him, the children as well. But the beats of terror disappeared. Silence and the want to understand the question that was asked.

Instead of an answer, the sound of thunder. Along with a drop of water falling from the ceiling to splash across James' hand. The room falling into darkness before a spotlight shines on a single suit leaning against the wall.

A suit that looked like Springtrap before he rotted away. Bright gold and ready to perform for children. Except the only ones who had been standing inside the room seemed to be gone. All that was left was him and a figure leering over the suit with indecision.

 _ _Harm him.__

A shivering figure as the suit twitches in agony. The man gone, the children watching with tears.

"No! Stop!"

 _ _Save them.__

The man having been springlocked only slumps, still shivering on the ground in his own spotlight.

"Please! You don't have to do this!"

 _ _Someone there...__


End file.
